Sugar
by JBSlarti
Summary: Sometimes, a little kindness is all it takes. Featuring Nightcrawler.


_Sugar  
AN: This was one of the first Nightcrawler fics I wrote, back in 2000. Interestingly enough, this one was actually rendered as a comic by a Canadian artist and used in her portfolio._

* * *

"You look like you just lost your best friend, sugar."

With a gasp, the man jerked as if he had been shot and looked up at me, his eyes wide and red-rimmed. He looked haggard, wrung-out, and he had been sitting motionless at the booth for hours. I immediately regretted opening my mouth.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," I tried my best innocent smile. "You just looked lonely over here, and your cup is empty."

"Oh... thank you." His eyes still looked unfocused. He slid the cup to the edge of the table with two long fingers. I filled it from the coffee decanter and considered what I should say next. Nothing, if I was smart.

"You're welcome. If you need anything else, I'll be around." There, that was safe. Oh, hell... "I'm a great listener too, if you need one of those." I never was smart.

His eyes focused on my face for the first time tonight. "I appreciate that, but I'm fine." His sickly, forced smile told me how fine he was.

"Sure thing, sugar."

I returned to the kitchen. He needed to be watched and I didn't want to be the only eyes doing it.

"Dave, we got a space-case out there."

"Huh? That guy in the corner?"

"The same."

Dave released the knife he was holding with a flick of his wrist. It stuck with a cachunk and quivered in a box. The lanky teen punched the air in triumph. Idiot.

"Ha! I hit it!" Leaning out the kitchen door, he peered at the man not-so-subtly. He turned back to me and shrugged. "High?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Want me should get rid of him?"

"Nah. I just want you to help me keep an eye on him. He looks depressed as hell. I don't want him doing anything to himself in here."

"Okey-dokie." He picked up another knife and fingered the dull blade.

I left Dave to his target practice and studiously cleaned a table across from the man in the booth. He looked normal enough, average height, average weight, young, in good shape. He raised a hand to his face, wiping at his eyes. Was he crying? I guess I forgot to move the rag.

"If you are going to watch me you should try to be more sneaky." He turned his head and looked directly at me, resting his chin on the heel of his hand, as if his head were too heavy to hold up.

"Ahhh, I'm sorry. I was just worried."

"I'm no danger, I assure you."

Dave poked his head out the kitchen door. The knife was in his hand. "Any problems, Mandy?"

"Nah, it's okay. Right, sugar?"

A tired smile played around the corners of his mouth. "Right as rain, Mandy." I smiled back at him.

Dave considered the little exchange for a moment before disappearing.  
"So," I ventured. "Is it a girl? Good lookin' guy like you shouldn't worry; there'll be another."

The tiny smile remained. "Nein, I wish it was."

"German! I couldn't place that accent before now! I've got family in Germany." I dropped the rag and walked up to him. I wasn't brave enough to just sit down. Yet.

"Really?" He tilted his head on his hand to look up at me. "You may as well sit down, I can see you won't go away."

"Persistent, aren't I?" Grinning like a fool, I slid into the seat across from him. "Thank you."  
"Where in Germany?"

"The Army base outside Friedberg. My brother is in the infantry."

He sighed gustily. "Ah, I'm from Bavaria." His eyes drifted to my name tag. "Mandy, that's pretty name. I have a good friend named Amanda."

"Thank you, my name is Amanda too. Everyone calls me Mandy."

"I suppose company won't hurt me." For the first time, his smile touched his eyes. "Especially company as lovely as you."

"My, you're quite the charmer."

"So I've been told."

He maintained eye contact for a moment and then looked out the window, blinking rapidly. A crease appeared between his dark eyebrows. "So, what is wrong?"

His eyes returned to his coffee cup. Fingers traced the rim.

"You were right the first time."

I thought back furiously. What had I said? Oh...

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "You didn't know."

"May I ask his name?"

"Ja, Peter. He was like-" His voice cracked. "-a brother to me."

"How did he die?"

"Ah, that is... complicated." He raised his eyes to mine. "Let's just say it was sudden."

"Oh."

My heart went out to the poor guy. I was speechless. I've never lost anyone close to me, except for grandparents, and that's expected. I don't know how I would react either. I thought of my brother in Germany. There was no way I could take his mind off of his loss. But maybe... "Tell me about him." He jerked slightly. "Only if you want..." I added quickly.

"Ja, I would like that." He sipped his coffee. "He was young, younger than I. I went to school with him, I worked with him, I lived with him, for many, many years. He was Russian."

I was starting to get really interested now. "Really. Wow. What did he look like?"

"He was very big, muscular. He was tall, with black hair and blue eyes. He was very strong," his eyes got that far-away look again. "But he was very gentle. He was a great artist and he wanted nothing more to devote himself to his art. But that was not to be."

"That's so sad."

His smile was bitter. "He had a sister, whom he loved more than life itself. She died very young of a disease. There was nothing any of us could do. In a way, he died of the same disease."

"Cancer?"

"No." He took a deep breath, his head tilting up to look me in the eyes. "Have you ever heard of the Legacy virus?"

I wracked my brain. He studied my face intently, his muscles tensed. It sounded familiar... "That's the virus that kills mutants!" I said it a little louder than I meant to.

"Mandy?" Dave stuck his head out the door again with a frown. "Did you yell?" His eyes were not on me.

"It's all right Davey." I watched the man out of the corner of my eye; he was a coiled spring. "I just got a little excited."

Dave narrowed his eyes before he disappeared, just like a Jack back into his box. I looked at the man again, closer this time. He had relaxed minutely, but he had a funny, pinched look in his eyes. Like a dog waiting to be kicked.

"Your friend was a mutant." It wasn't a question.

"Ja. Now what do you think of him?" He looked like he just knew he wasn't going to like my answer. There was nothing unfocused about him now. Blue eyes bored into mine. I had never met a mutant before, that I knew of. I knew some were bad, like Magneto. Others were heroes, like some of the Avengers. I knew a lot of them just wanted to live their lives the way they wanted and be left alone. Don't we all? I liked this man, I wasn't sure he still liked me.

"Well, I don't think it changes anything."

His head cocked to the left. "Really." His voice was flat.

"No. He was still your friend. You still miss him. Him being a mutant doesn't make it any less of a tragedy."

He blinked, a tear sliding down his right cheek. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded tissue. He looked at it for a long moment before he took it. "Danke."

I shrugged. "I know some people have problems with mutants. I am a little scared of some of them, like that Magneto. I know most of them are just normal people. What could he do, if I may ask?"

He crumpled the tissue in a fist, his face still wet. "His skin turned to a form of organic steel whenever he wanted."

I'd never heard of that one before. "Well, with a power like that he sounds like a hero. I don't suppose he was an Avenger?" I smiled, desperately hoping I wasn't walking a tightrope with my joke. I could feel the chasm underneath me though.

He barked a laugh. "No, we're not Avengers."

"We..."

His gaze sharpened again at my abrupt intake of breath. He didn't look like a mutant to me but...

"You're a mutant too."

"Ja. Does that change how you look at me now?"

"No. You are still a man who just lost his best friend."

I still couldn't see anything that marked him out as a mutant. I always figured they were easy to pick out.

"But you are looking at me differently."

He caught me red-handed. I felt my face heat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You are thinking 'he doesn't look like a mutant.' You're wondering what I do. You're wondering that if I am a mutant, anyone else you serve here or meet in the street could be one. How can you tell anymore?"

I was suddenly angry. "Are you a mind reader?" Then I was abashed. I had just confirmed all his suspicions. I felt like a rat.

"No." The unfocused sadness returned to his eyes. "I've just seen it many, many times. Usually not directed at me, but at my friends, when they are uncovered as mutants. I can't hide as easily as they usually can."

"But you look-" I immediately regretted it, even before the word left my lips.

"Normal?" His smile was bitter again. "But, what if this isn't how I really look?"

"How is that possible? Is that your power?"

"No. I teleport. The image before you is a hologram."

I had never imagined that was even possible. He looked solid to me. But if this wasn't real... "What do you really look like?"

"Do you really want to know?"

I wasn't sure. What if he was a monster? He seemed so nice, surely it couldn't be bad.

"Yes." My voice only wavered slightly.

He considered me for a moment and then nodded once to himself. "Then touch my hand and tell me what you feel." He reached across the table. I looked at his hand for a long moment. I was afraid. Afraid of the unknown. He wouldn't hurt me, I was sure of it, but he was a mutant. It looked normal enough. There was that damn word again. Who was I to judge what is normal? Disgusted with myself, I grabbed his hand.

I'm afraid I screeched. I jerked my hand back as if I had been shot. I had felt long, thick fingers and there weren't nearly enough of them. It felt like I'd grabbed E.T the Extraterrestrial.

Dave was out of the kitchen like a streak in a white apron, knife in hand.

"What did he do to you!"

The man's hand balled into a fist and he looked at me with a resigned expression. He ignored Davey and his waving knife.

"I'm...I'm okay, Davey." I tore my eyes away from the man's. "Go on back in the kitchen."

"No! What did this asshole do to you?"

"I said, GO!"

Dave approached menacingly, shifting his grip on the knife. The man looked at him for the first time. He swept his gaze contemptuously across Dave and his knife.

"Why don't you do what the frau says. Before you get hurt, boy." His voice was cold as ice and he suddenly looked very dangerous.

Dave sneered at him and raised the knife. I recognized the pose; he was ready to throw it. "Dave, don't!" I didn't even have time to move or open my mouth to scream. The knife flashed toward the man, who was suddenly not there. A sickening smell filled the air, like rotten eggs.

He reappeared behind Dave and caught him by the throat. He was shorter than Dave but he had no problem restraining the bucking youth.

"You are just a real hero aren't you?" he hissed in Dave's ear. His eyes were wide with terror now. "You could have missed and killed her you know."

I was as stunned by the vise grip this seemingly mild-mannered young man had Dave in as I was seeing him use his powers. I rather enjoyed watching the punk squirm. He had been so sure of himself. I was pretty sure the man wouldn't hurt him. I also felt guilty. If I hadn't overreacted, Dave would never have come out here with a bee up his butt.

"Davey, I told you it was okay. I'm fine. It was just a big misunderstanding. Now apologize to the paying customer you just tried to skewer and go home."

"Nuh-uh, man!" His voice was strained but his bravado hadn't completely spent itself out. "He's a mutie! You saw what he did!"

"Yeah, so? You tried to kill him, he's got as much right to be here as anyone."

"Muties are ruinin' this country! He shouldn't be out here with real people!"

I heard the man growl deep down in his throat. He opened his mouth to give the kid an ear-full.

I sighed. "Allow me."

Balling my fist, I jacked Davey in the jaw as hard as I could. It felt good. The man released him and he slid down to the floor. Judging by my knuckles, he'd be out for a while.

The man blinked at me and smiled. "Danke. I'm impressed."

"It's me that should be thanking you," I rubbed my knuckles and returned his smile. "But no problem, the little jack ass has been getting on my nerves all week."

His smile melted away. "I should go."

"No. Look, I'm sorry for what he did," I took a deep breath. "Most of all, I'm sorry for the way I reacted." I held out my hand to him.

He regarded it for a moment. Slowly, he extended his hand to mine and stopped, inches short. I closed the last space between us and took it. His skin was warm and almost felt like a peach, covered with short, soft fuzz. His long fingers were strong and I could now see why his holographic fingers split the way they did. It was odd to see my hand seemingly moving through his as my fingers passed through the hologram.

I realized I was staring and fondling him and looked up with sudden fear that I was offending him. His expression was amused.

"I'm sorry, I've just never felt anything like this." I realized I was still running my thumb over his knuckles and stopped.

"It's fine," he laughed, a truly happy sound. "I much prefer wonder to fear."

"What do you look like?"

He pulled a pager off his belt and held it up to me, his thumb poised over a button. I felt his hand pull away from me and I held on, shaking my head at him. He nodded in understanding and flipped the switch. We stood in total silence. I held his hand tightly, turning it over and looking at the dark blue skin. No, not E.T. at all. Slowly, I raised my eyes. His clothes were the same. Soon my gaze was locked with unblinking, solid yellow eyes. His face was the same blue as his hands. His short, curly hair was a few shades darker and his ears peaked in delicate points.

I smiled at him. His face split in a broad grin, revealing pointed canine teeth. I laughed. So this was the face of a dangerous mutant? He looked like a big Smurf.

"Now, I really should go." He jerked his head toward where Davey was still out cold on the floor. "Before Captain America there wakes up."

"Yeah, it's past closing time. Plus I knocked the cook out."

"What do I owe you," he said with a laugh, reaching into his back pocket.

"It's on the house."

"Nein, here." He slid the cash into my hand, allowing both of his to rest on top of mine for a moment. I squeezed his for a moment before releasing him.

"Thank you, you come back any time you need a friend, sugar. You're always welcome here."

He turned to go with an almost feline grace, flipping his holographic disguise back on. But not before I caught a glimpse of a long, spade-tipped tail.

He paused at the door and looked back at me. "No, Mandy, thank you." He left me his brilliant smile.


End file.
